I havent spoken for quite some time
So my aquaintence has said
I never talk its true
Because the wind speaks over me
I find myself through
Through with sound
Through with speech
Through with words that have little sentiment
Lines of abbreviations stuck on repeat
But words set in blood
Its smell thick and color black
Drawn over paper
Like a scar on fresh meat
Words chosen so carefully
With wit and playfulness that brings me to my knees
I found my self worshiping such Instruments
And at last I may speak.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Small Snippets And Tiny Drabbles
PoesíaI honestly don't know what to call it. I just wanna put in my stuff and you can see from there what you think. I know the cover looks silly, but what I wrote isn't exactly something funny. With that being said I should warn you that there are some s...
